Mocking Miss Mione
by eos9
Summary: Hermione's one of my faves, but sometimes it's fun to take the piss. A collection of HG one-shots that try to address Miss Granger's rough edges. Chapters 1 G. Family Crest & 3 Good to be the Potions Master are reposts. Some dialogue with HP and SS.
1. Granger Family Crest

**That which does not make sense must be researched! (TM)**

.

Hermione watched them—Professor Snape, Professor Lupin, and Sirius. Tonks had named them the 'Hottie Try-us-virate', because all their names ended in "us" and she thought they were all sexy (even her cousin!) and so she wanted to "try them out". Hermione didn't really get it. The reason, that is—not the silly name. Professors Snape and Lupin were... well, professors, you know? (Even if one of them wasn't anymore.) She hadn't had a crush on a professor since she was _13_! She was nearly 16 now. As for Sirius... well, he just wasn't quite... well, _right_ either... mentally, she meant. Besides—Tonks fancied her _cousin_? _Ewww!_

But Hermione watched them more now, now that Tonks had brought them into that light—like they were... you know... _men_, and not just... "adults", "teachers", or "crazies". Still, she couldn't see what Tonks saw. Instead, what she saw was... well, they all looked _old_. And the more that she thought of it, the more she realised that them looking old was really strange. Off, even. Professor McGonagall was around 60, but still looked like she was 20 years younger—not a single silver hair in her jet-black bun. Professor Dumbledore was 114, but looked like he was in his 80s or 90s with the physical and mental agility of someone in their 60s or 70s.

But the _Tryusvirate_ were only... what? 35 or there abouts? They should still look like they were in their 20s at least, but instead they looked older than her muggle parents! And Mum and Dad were _old_ when she was born! Well, older than Harry's parents were, which made them older than the Tryusvirate If her mum saw them, she'd probably guess that they were all in their late 40s or even in their 50s. It just didn't make _sense_ to Hermione, and 'that which does not make sense must be researched!' -TM. (She'd once doodled her own "Granger" family crest with that as the motto, but she hadn't yet got up the nerve to ask Dean to draw it out properly.)

Not too long ago, while she was helping in the cleanup of 12 Grimmauld Place Hermione found an old copy of _Tending Our Magical Garden_, which was apparently a co-ed wizarding version of _Our Bodies, Ourselves_. After going through scores of books in the Black Library searching out information on how wizards age and if premature aging is possible, it was actually in the introductory chapter of _Magical Garden_ that she found her answer:

"_A young witch or wizard is a resilient creature. Not only will the accidental magic of pre-wand children often protect them from serious injuries with actions such as harmlessly bouncing from great falls, or apparating to a place of safety when caught in a conflict, their magic will also heal their bodies at an accelerated rate. This is why magical children rarely show signs malnutrition or abuse—a fact which made them prime candidates for some of the darker experiments conducted in the late 10th century. Incidentally, it was these experiments which lead to the founding of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the abolition of magical orphanages. _

_The accelerated healing rate of young magicals is tied to their growth hormones. It helps synchronise the development of their bodies with the expansion of their magic so that neither may eclipse the other. Once a witch or wizard reaches maturity (something which varies between individuals, but is typically attained by the age of 25), the natural healing and rejuvenating ability they possess will starkly decline and then level off. Overexposure to environments of extreme stress during the final growing stage (commencing at approximately 17 years of age and completing once maturity has been achieved) may shorten this time period, with the individual in question reaching their physical adulthood prematurely. _

_Witches and wizards who have completed their growth period will still possess natural healing and rejuvenating ability far above the average muggle, which facilitates the capacity to receive healing treatments such as spells and potions, and which also accounts for the greater life-span and resiliency of magical humans compared to muggles. However, just as abnormal physical, emotional, and mental stress can cut short the final growing stage, so too can stress impact negatively on an adult witch or wizard's ability to naturally heal and repair their mind, magic, and bodies. In some cases, such as those suffering from lingering illness and curse damage, the aging process may appear to accelerate, with the witch or wizard in question looking older than their muggle contemporaries._

_In cases of premature aging in magical folk, a cessation of external stress will often halt the deterioration. Reversing the damage is only possible after the causes of the damage have been thoroughly removed, and even then only with a lengthy and expensive combination of regimented potions and mind healing sessions. As such, many sufferers of premature aging choose to simply wait until their chronological age catches up to their physical appearance. The unfortunate downside to this tactic is that uninformed colleagues may over time become cautious or even hostile, suspecting dark magic at work with the subject's apparent immortality."_

Hermione closed the book making a mental note to go back to it later that night for a more in-depth look at the illustrations near the back. What? She was curious!

"_Well, that was interesting,"_ she muttered to herself. It certainly explained Professor Lupin's grey hair, Professor Snape's sallow complexion and harsh lines, and Sirius' papery skin. There probably wasn't any help for Professor Lupin—he was always going to be a werewolf. It certainly made her wonder about his life expectancy, though. She shuddered. Even if she was able to see him as a potentially handsome man, she wouldn't want to attach herself to someone who was aging three times faster than she was and already had an almost 20 year head-start. Tonks was bonkers, that much was clear.

As for Professor Snape, well he probably reached his maturity early from his three years or so as a Death Eater and then spy, but that should have at least given him a clean slate from that point on. Even with an early maturity, he was only 21 or so when You-Know-Who was defeated, so even if he wasn't supposed to reach maturity until the maximum age of 25, that's only 4 years early, which wouldn't be enough to cause his current state. Looking at him, Professor Snape had certainly continued to deteriorate during that decade of peace, so whatever was literally eating at him couldn't just be the evil-spy-thing, which meant that there probably wasn't any hope for him, either.

And Sirius... well nearly 12 years in a dementor-patrolled prison would kill anyone's natural healing powers while they were in it, and it's not like he'd been stress-free since—worried about Wormtail, worried about Harry and eating rats, and now... well it was no secret that he hated this house and everything in it, and there was no news on when he might be free to leave it. So she guessed he was a lost cause, too. It was too bad, really. Even if he never regained his youthful good looks, it would be nice if he could at least grow up a little. Honestly! Sometimes when it was just her, Harry, Ron and Sirius, she felt like _she_ was the adult! And the way Professor Snape acted too- well, it certainly made her wonder if magical healing abilities weren't the only thing that could be stunted by trauma. It was a wonder that Professor Lupin was as level-headed as he was!

Hermione sighed. The whole thing was ever so sad. All these people were young once—in school together and everything! As much as she hated the ferret, she couldn't really bring herself to wish Professor Snape's fate on him.

_Wait a minute..._

_...if Malfoy was the Professor Snape of this generation..._

_...then what about her and Ron and Harry?_

It was sort of easy to focus on Harry's temper and missing out on Order stuff and having fun in the kitchen and trying to clear out all of the crazy stuff in this crazy house and girl-talk with Tonks and avoiding the twins and trying to figure out if Mrs. Weasley really _had_ forgiven her for Rita Skeeter's articles...

But the reality was still there, lurking. You-Know-Who was back and he'd already _killed_ people. Malfoy had said it himself—_"They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first!" _Well that's her and Ron sorted, then. Really, she'd never taken it very seriously, even with the Chamber of Secrets and the hate mail this past year. "Mudblood" was sort of like combining "know-it-all" with "bitch"—something nasty and vulgar and personal, too. But hearing Mrs. Black's furious screams and Kreacher's murderous grumblings, and seeing those names blasted off the family tree—well it really brought it home to her that for a lot of the magical people in Britain (and who knew, really, just how many people felt that way under a veneer of polite aloofness?) that she—was—not—wanted.

So what did it all mean? You know, to her and her friends and their future? Would they end up like the Tryusvirate? If war really came, would they be tortured? Imprisoned? In twenty years, if she was still alive, would she look older than her own mother? Hermione shuddered again. And she didn't even _want_ to think about the possible fates for Ron and Harry—_especially_ Harry, who somehow and for some reason seemed to _always_ be at the centre of the whirlwind. C'mon—dementors in _Surrey_? Only Harry.

No, she didn't want to think about it, and it really didn't matter anyway. Whatever happened would happen, and all she could do was just try to be as prepared as possible- and _that_ meant studying harder than ever before. With OWLs coming up, it was a good excuse to just _cram-cram-cram!_

In the meantime, she'd definitely be checking out page 157 of _Magical Garden_ tonight. She had no idea a wand could do _that_.

.

* * *

.

**AN-** So, one of my pet-peeves with the movies is that they were just made too late. Alan Rickman as the Sherriff in _Robin Hood Prince of Thieves_? Perfect Snape. Alan Rickman 20 years later? Not so much. Gary Oldman in _Bram Stoker's Dracula_? Absolutely (at least with some grey contacts)! Now? Meh. David Thewlis in _Naked_? Okay, well, maybe.

Anyway, this got me thinking about the similarity in the three characters, and how they were all supposed to be somewhat ravaged by hard living (though not quite enough to account for the movies, imho). Also, now that I'm Maurader-aged myself, it's given me a slightly different perspective on the various cross-generation relationships in canon (Remus/Tonks) and fanon (HG/SS). Put the two of these together and filter them through Hermione's pre-DoM book/people barrier (which she uses in much the same way as many smokers use cigarettes) and control mechanism, and this fic is what you end up with.

The motto to Hermione's new Granger Family Crest, by the way, is a take on the old adage, "that which does not kill you, makes you stronger". It's an attempt to draw a comparison between adolescent Harry and Hermione and how they deal with the unknown.**

**[The "need to know" so that she can process events often causes her to cross boundaries as her need overrides the needs of the person in question. Also, though relying on outside sources to confront difficulties allows her a more objective view than Harry, who relies on intuition (and thus inadvertently makes every problem about himself), it also creates barriers and distance whereby people become subjects and their problems become puzzles.]

Thanks for reading and please review!


	2. It's all in the cards

"Errrrrghhhhh!"

Harry looked up from the settee and turned to Hermione as yet another book was slammed shut and hurled at the growing pile that quivered dangerously close to the fireplace.

"What's up?"

Hermione glowered at him as she furiously tore through her notes.

"It's not here! I just can't find it anywhere! At some point in time, I found information about previous witches who campaigned for minority rights in the wizarding world. I've got their names written down here, right here," She used her nail-bitten finger to jab imperiously at a piece of parchment containing a simple heading and list of names, "but the notes must be ages old because I can't for the life of me remember where I copied them from! Ergh! Honoria Nutcombe! Carlotta Pinkstone! Idris Oakby! Daisy Hookum! Laurentia Fletwock! Who _are_ these people? I can't figure it out!"

Harry looked down at his lap and fiddled with his hands a bit. Then, with a barely-detectable twinkle in his eyes, he looked back at Hermione, who appeared near tears.

"Hm... Carlotta Pinkstone? Founded the Society for the Reformation of Hags? That one?"

Hermione gasped and looked up at him, completely dumbfounded. Before she could say anything, Harry continued with a mysterious grin.

"Let's see... Laurentia Fletwock? Celebrated breeder and racer of winged horses? Has campaigned for tighter restrictions on broomstick use? Does that ring a bell?"

Hermione's eyes began to burn with a manic fire.

"Yes! That must be it! Harry, how did you know? Do you know the rest? I need them for my career counselling session! Harry! You've got to help me! Where can I get the information?"

He picked up a couple of the frog cards he'd been organising and tossed them to the nearly hysterical young woman.

"Here you go, Hermione! Frog cards! Answers to all of the greater mysteries of the universe, wrapped up with a bit of sweet, delicious chocolate. Sheesh. I thought you'd learned that back in First Year with Flamel. Guess there's no teaching some people," Harry finished with a sorrowful shake of the head and several regretful 'tsk's.

He managed to keep a straight face for maybe a minute before he couldn't keep back the giddy laughter that burst out as he dodged the book which quickly scattered his neatly-stacked piles. Hermione was right—that list _was_ ages old.

Harry made it himself right after the twins taught him the charm to mimic handwriting.

He had to pay her back for those badges somehow, right? Having to walk around with "spew" on his robes was one thing, but giving Malfoy good ideas? Now, that was a prank-worthy bit unintentional treason. And if it forced Hermione to actually talk to someone she would listen to, so much the better. If Dobby had to "adopt" one more bobble-hat, he'd tip over, and that would be the end of everything. As it was, his room was really starting to reek.

.

* * *

.

**AN:** I was going through the "Wizard of the Month" calendar on JK Rowling's site and noticed that quite a few had "campaigning" (US="activism") themes and thought that Hermione would be quite keen on some of them. The madness devolved from there. I originally had a whole other bit tacked to the end where, now that Harry has finally witnessed successful use of the handwriting mimicry charm, he considers other possible uses, finally arriving at sending fake letters to his Aunt and Uncle from Dudley, and vice-versa. In the end though, I decided to just leave it as a little one-themed drabble. Please let me know what you think!


	3. Following the rules

Severus Snape startled and looked up from his cauldron as the door to his private research lab slammed open. It took him a moment of blank staring to realise that the formidable woman standing purposefully before him used to be a little, very irritating girl named Hermione Granger once upon quite a long time ago.

"Alright, I'm ready."

Impenetrable black eyes blinked."_Ready for what?"_ he snapped, shock and bewilderment having clearly left him bereft of all but the most basic communication skills, which apparently excluded the ability to interrogate her on how the hell she had got onto his warded property.

"I turned 33 today. That means I'm finally half your age plus seven."

She started unbuttoning her robes, seemingly oblivious to the expression dawning on his face.

"Where do you want me? Bent over the workbench? Perched and leaning back on a stool? Hands and knees on the floor? Why aren't you undressing? I've waited over 15 years for this, Professor—get to it!"

She stood there, turned diagonally away from him, in matching green lacy undergarments complete with black suspender seamed tights and platform 7 inch heels, as she rummaged through something that was just out of his line of sight. "Will this work for you? I also have a tightened, shortened version of my Hogwarts uniform, if you prefer. Or we can mix it up—I've got my Gryffindor tie here—you can use it like a leash."

If Severus had been drinking at that point, he surely would have sprayed the liquid all over his cauldron. As it was, he nearly choked. Little did he know that this was only the beginning...

"Oh, and let me know if you want my hair like this or back to bushy. There's your choice of quills, muggle pencils, or various ornate silver and emerald hairclips to hold it up, so that you can enjoy the image and sensation of removing them and watching my hair tumble down."

_erm... _Severus was beginning to wonder if she hadn't simply confunded him just before she entered. Then again, even a confundus would be incapable of creating confused impressions which revolved around formerly buck-toothed know-it-alls calmly and pedantically rattling off a memorised list of teenaged sexual cliches.

"I've also got various props. Do you want to pound me while I try to read Hogwarts a History out loud? Maybe Moste Potente Potions? There are a few spare wands and cauldron stirrers for spanking or insertion, and I've got some illicit potions if you want one or both of us to be drugged first. Plus the general public school disciplinary tools—a paddle, a switch, a ruler, a riding crop—you know."

Had she been paying attention, she might have seen Severus' eyebrows creeping higher and higher during her list, but instead she continued to stand there in her skivvies, back slightly turned as she conducted some sort of inventory on... well, Merlin only knew, really.

"That reminds me... I've also practiced some illusions, so that I can make it look like we're back in your Potions class with it full of Gryffindors & Slytherins, or just us doing detention in the classroom or in your office. I never saw your quarters, so you'd have to do that one, I'm afraid. But I _have_ practiced illusions of individual people as well, if you want a select audience. I can do them singly or in small groups. So far, I've got down Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Colin, Draco, Lucius, Narcissa, Remus, Sirius, and Minerva, but if you have any other special requests, just let me know, and I can work on them. The one caveat is that I can do the ones I've mentioned only at the ages I've known them, so if you want your contemporaries back when they were teenagers, you'll have to do them yourself for a while until I can copy you."

_Minerva? Oh, for the love of..._

"And if you want something a bit spicier, I've got two sets of death eater robes and masks and an optional dark mark fake tattoo for myself. I'm prepared to do "mudblood follower", "a victim", or "fellow spy". I've also got some accompanying leather kit if you're in the mood for a revel scene. I practiced Voldemort and Bellatrix illusions for those, just in case."

Severus was fairly certain that this was the moment where his obviously already impaired cognitive ability simply gave up and shut down.

"Oh, and there's polyjuice here. I managed to procure hairs for both of us when we were teenagers, as well as one of you in your 30s in case you want to do some age play. I even have an old Slytherin uniform for you here that I lifted from the Hogwarts house elves. Their archives really put the library to shame."

"..."

"So are we good to go? Have you decided yet? Fortunately, my muggle side is now officially at my sexual peak, so I should be fine to fulfil as many scenarios as you wish. I see you're still dressed, so I guess that's where you'd like me to start?"

It was the realisation that the scantily clad nightmare in front of him was actually reaching for his buttons- apparently quite confident in his acceptance of her... for lack of a better term... _advances_, which finally allowed him to snap out of the horrified stupor into which he'd fallen during the she-demon's monologue.

"Miss Granger..." he growled threateningly as her hands approached his neck. She shuddered in what was unfortunately not revulsion, and continued undeterred. His control snapped.

"_Miss Granger!"_ he bellowed, _"Get the hell out of my laboratories right now, and if you so much as think of approaching my ward lines again, I will gladly submit to Azkaban in payment for the ability to WREAK MY VENGEANCE UPON YOU!"_ His bellow had grown to a full-blown roar of rage. _"NOW, GO!"_

The woman shrieked, grabbed her robes and the infamous tattered beaded bag, and fled. Bringing a shaking hand up to the bridge of his prominent nose, Severus sighed. Miss Granger was the oldest of her year mates, and this was no doubt tidings of more dire things to come within the next twelve months. He shuddered at the selection of Hogwarts graduates that would no doubt approach him in the near future. Hopefully, Bulstrode wouldn't be quite so... creative.

It was the same every year, ever since he had made that damnable flippant excuse within hearing of the detestable beetle. Within days the ensuing article had spawned what was now a lamentable tradition amongst a unfathomable (and sometimes horrifying) collection of his former students. The Gryffindors were by far the worst. He shuddered at the memory of Johnson, who had appeared roughly three years ago around this time with a platter full of suggestive food. He hadn't touched oysters... or most fruit... since.

It wasn't all a loss, though. The memory of a nubile young Parkinson some ten years back brought a smirk. Unlike her year mate Miss Granger, Pansy Parkinson certainly knew that some things were simply not meant to follow the rules, and she had grabbed the opportunity without waiting for some hair-brained minimum age formula to kick in. Parkinson possessed other valuable knowledge, as well, including the importance of bringing an equally nubile friend. Thinking back on that particular rendezvous, as well as others over the years, he reflected that the occasional unexpected incident like the one he'd just suffered through couldn't quite eclipse the various benefits he'd received from the far more welcome visitors to his lab.

He could have killed Potter when he first recovered from the snake only to find himself in the middle of a sentimental maelstrom released in the wake of revelations over his newly established hero status, not the mention the public outing of his non-relationship with Lily. Eventually though, Severus had grown to quite appreciate bearing the reputation of a romantic Bronte-esque dark antihero. The article released not two years later regarding his supposed "age limits" seemed to shatter whatever barriers had remained and managed to be interpreted as some sort of tacit approval for sexual solicitations. Indeed, the past 15 years had been quite an education.

Severus smirked again and stretched before returning to his cauldron.

It's good to be the Potions Master.

.

* * *

.

**AN:** Okay, so I was re-reading nonjon's _**A Black Comedy**_ for the hundredth time, and when I got to the part where Remus is razzed for supposedly breaking the age rule in hooking up with Tonks, it got me wondering about what fanon HG/SS Hermione would do if she encountered such a rule, especially if there was some reason why the object of her desire expected the rule to be followed.

Without really thinking it through, I started this story, and quickly realised that a 15-year wait is a heck of a lot of prep-time to allow Hermione, and I could just imagine on how thoroughly she would research this, wanting everything to go perfectly and to be as prepared as possible. Then I realised that, confronted with Snape for the first time in a decade and a half, she would probably do that thing that many adults do, which is revert to the age she was the last time she saw him (it never fails—two days in the parents' house, and suddenly you're 18 again). And no matter how much Hermione had matured in all of those intervening years, it was quite easy to imagine her going into default 'quickly and clinically list everything I know' mode.

It was then that I realised that despite a fondness for HG/SS stories, there was no way that Snape would be enticed by this scenario _at all_. Everything else fell into place from there, including Rita's role in the debacle, and the slight twist that even though he rejected Hermione's advances, doesn't necessarily mean that he'd reject everyone's.

Of course, the last line is a reference to Mel Brooks' _History of the World Part I_. And being a parody, this story borrows heavily from... well, most of fanon. Respectfully and affectionately, of course. ;-) Please Review!


End file.
